Cabin Fever
by DragonMaster65
Summary: [12 Days of Ficmas] When Kyle mentions that Richards has a friend-of-a-friend who owns a cabin on the outskirts of Amity, it sounds like a fun getaway from the hustle and bustle of Dauntless life. All of Leadership gets invited, but only Tris and Eric take the pair up on the offer. [Eric x Tris] [Oneshot]


**A/N: Kyle and Richards are a pair of OCs that I've used in numerous fics. Kyle is the secretary for Dauntless Leadership. Richards is a truck driver and is completely enamored with his admittedly annoying boyfriend.**  
 **You don't really need to know anything about them for this story. It's just a short bit of silly Eris interaction :)**

 **Prompt : Our friends rent a cabin to go skiing and we're the only ones who stay inside**

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"Our friends rent a cabin to go skiing and we're the only ones who stay inside"

Of _course_ Richards knew an old buddy out in Amity with an empty hunting cabin. And of course he forgot to ask if it could actually fit all of us comfortably. Kyle was content to lounge wherever could support his tangle of limbs. Sometimes, if we were lucky, that spot was a chair. Often it was just whoever's lap that was available.

Eric bore the situation with relative grace. I hadn't genuinely expected him to make the trip out. It was one thing to invite the boss out of obligation - that was maybe about a third of why Kyle had invited me, after all - but it was another altogether for the boss to accept. Richards and I were slightly good acquaintances at best. As far as I knew, he had even less of a passing respect for Eric.

But hey, a free pair of nights outside of the tedium of winter duty was worth a few uncomfortable silences of long, drawn out eye contact between not-friends. We'd piled as much stolen liquor, surplus blankets, and canned food that could fit in the spare crannies of our gear bags.

And it was a good time so far. Kyle and Richards were both hilarious even before tequila. Even stone-faced Eric cracked a grin when Kyle would drop onto the arm of his chair to regale the group with a story. My discomfort did kick up a little bit when it came to deciding who would sleep where. The end result for the first night was going head-to-toesies with Richards on the bed as Kyle snored drunkenly in the tub and Eric stretched across the single couch.

Coming up on the second evening, I started chewing on my tongue. Rich hadn't _seemed_ to mind me stealing the other side of the bed, but if his boyfriend was actually somewhat conscious by the time he wanted to sleep they were more than likely going to want to be together this time.

That left me with very limited other options.

I kept that worry as out of my mind as I could for the morning. Cranking past lunchtime I smiled politely to Eric as I passed him the can opener. It was pretty much all we managed at work. Being out here wasn't terribly different. There was a nice buffer of the other guys yesterday where I didn't have to think about where to bring the conversation. When three o'clock rolled around, that comfortable buffer vanished in an avalanche of ski poles and downy jackets.

With Richards and Kyle out skiing, I had to resort to deflecting the possibility of starting a conversation by digging through my gear bag. When I realized that my knives were already honed, my rifle safely in my locker 35 miles away, and my socks perfectly paired, I had to admit defeat.

"You're really determined to not even try to talk to me?" Eric asked. He had angled his head to perfectly peer over the edge of my textbook, his nose piercing riding the line between seen and hidden.

I flushed and moved so that his eyes were once again covered by - _what was it I was reading anyways? Ah yes_ \- introductory plant morphology. "I don't know what you're talking about," I sniffed. He kneed my crossed leg until he'd cleared the way to drop down next to me on the couch. The cushions bowed under our combined weight, tipping our shoulders dangerously close to actually touching.

"Okay then," he said with a laborious sigh. Leaning back, his arms stretched to encompass the span of the couch. When I flicked my eyes to glare at him, Eric was merely smirking. "I can wait. I'm a patient man," he added.

My book dropped down to my lap, pages carefully held open with my thumbs. "It's not like I'm avoiding talking," I insisted.

Eric still didn't move. After another fruitless minute of not really reading I finally closed the pages. " _Fine_ ," I huffed, turning my head to face him. With exaggerated cheerfulness, I asked, "Would you like to talk for a bit?"

He made a face and picked up the book from my lap. "That sounds horrible. I just wanted to steal your book," Eric said. I stared at him incredulously. The barest curl of his lip betrayed his otherwise flawless deadpan execution.

It was my turn to harass the hell out of him.

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 **A/N: This is Day 1 of my "12 Days of Ficmas" event that I have been working on for this holiday season! I had intended to post these on the proper day, but my focus was on writing and thus only the drafts on AO3 got posted on the proper dates. These will span a few different fandoms, so please check out my profile for any that might catch your eye! Cheers!**


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